Piece of cake
by Gingertreat
Summary: Around 50 years after Fallout 3. Charon meets a raider and helps her to start a new life. Smut in later chapters. No regular updates. Just another story I need to get out of my head.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer. Don't own anything of this. This Chapter was subseqquently revised. The facts didn't change.

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Charon walked silently through the subway tunnels, even though the most common inhabitant, the feral ghoul wouldn't attack him. For whatever reason that is, he thought to himself. Sure, they wouldn't attack him because he was a ghoul himself, but what is it specifically, that ferals don't attack other ghouls? The appearance? The smell? Charon pulled at the collar of his leather jacket and sniffed it. Sweat. Dirt. And the usual tang of rot. He couldn't wait to get to his nearest "Save-Place" after weeks of scavenging and roaming the wasteland. At his save-place there wouldn't be a shower but he could at least heat some water to clean himself a bit with a washing cloth. He rounded the last bend and saw the heavy steel door of his hide-out. He roamed in his pocket for the keys as he heard something. Immediately dropping the keyring he already had his shotgun in his hand. Charon waited for a second before he heard the sound again.

No doubt. Someone or something was near. It sounded like stifled groaning, but he wasn't sure if it was a ghoul, a human or somethign else entirely. Leaving the door behind him, he proceeded along the railways through the tunnel. There were a few heaps of rubbish and debris along the walls which would make a good cover for someone to ambush him. So, he sneaked near and quickly peeked around them, shotgun drawn and pointing at empty space behind the piles. He could still hear the groaning and at the last mound of debris he found the source. A person cowered behind the pile, leaning against the wall. Raider, Charon thought immediately as he looked over the equipment and clothes. Suddenly, the person leaned forward and puked on the floor, almost toppling over and into the vomit. Charon took a step back -he didn't want to ge vomit on his boots - and pointed his shotgun at the head. He wouldn't be able to rest if he knew, there were raiders near to his hide-out. He could see the shaven head behind the frontsight of his shotgun, but at the last moment he refused to pull the trigger. Instead he nudged the person with his barrel. "Hey, get out of here." Fever-bright eyes looked up and tried to fix the gaze upon him. A woman, Charon recognized as he finally saw the dirty and scraped face.

She screamed and tried to skid away from him. "Shut up. Shut up, you dumb bitch. You attract to much attention." She topped shouting for help but still skidded backwards along the subway wall. "It can talk. The corpse talks" She exclaimed and shook her head. Charon growled. Of course, he could talk. "Get away from here or I'll have to kill you." She looked around, as if she was looking for someone who could also hear the ghoul talk to make sure, she was not losing her mind. "I can't" she responded. "Sure you can. Just go back to your squalor friends." She shook her head again. "I can't stand." He sighed. "Too high or why can't you?" she laughed silently. "Yeah. No. But that's the problem. How do you call it? When you don't take drugs but your body wants you to."

He dropped the barrel of his shotgun as a hint of hope crawled into his brain. "Withdrawal" she nodded. "Ja, that's the word." He mustered the woman again. "You don't have the drugs you need with you? I can get you some." he asked her, hoping she would beg him for her fix to proof his suspicions wrong. Her eyes shone with need. "No. you can't give them to me. You can't. I can't" he stepped forward and she shied backwards again. "Tell me, why you can't" he demanded. "I just. I can't. I don't want to anymore. I want to change." "Change what." He compelled her to answer. "Everything." He exhaled audibly. There it was. His guts were right. He remembered the day he had this conversation so clearly as if it was yesterday. He wasn't a drug addict, but at that time he needed to change, too, so desperately. And then there was this person. He had done and give everything for this old unsocial ghoul. "Did you soil yourself?" she starred at him. "Did I what?" he raised his voice. "If you shit yourself." "No. I didn't."

Charon secured his rifle on his back. "I can kill you in more ways you could ever think of. Even without my shotgun. Did I make myself clear?" she nodded as he stepped towards and reached for her. Her eyes widened and she tried to push him away as he picked her up bridal style. "No! Don't touch me!" "Shush! It's not contagious." She still struggled weakly against his grip. "What will you do to me?" she asked with fear in her voice. "If you truly want to get clean I'll help you." "Why would you do that?". They arrived at the door to his "save-place" and he unlocked it with one hand. Inside the small pre-war break room was enough space for an old mattress, a shelf with a few supplies and a hot plate on top of an office desk.

He opened the next door and placed her on the floor of the tiniest bathroom possible. "Don't puke on the floor. You can flush the toilet with the water in the bucket." She already hugged the toilet as if it was her dearest friend and emptied her already empty belly. Charon went back to the main room. She heard him working at the door, probably setting up some traps, she thought as he already returned and threw a blanket over her. "When you're done with puking you should sleep." He pointed to the mattress. "Why," she asked again, hoping for an answer. "Why are you doing this." He exhaled audible as his shoulders dropped. He was tired of remembering.

"A long time ago I promised someone important to return a favour. By helping you I will live up to that promise."


	2. Chapter 2

She felt horrible. A minute would feel like a week, and a week like a second. Did she already spend so much time in this small - depleted of space - room? Weeks? She wasn't sure. Most of the time she slept on the ratty mattress, the water bucket from the bathroom standing next to her. "Don't puke on the floor." The talking corpse had told her. It lasted a minute. She lost consciousness and puked all over everything.

She woke up on the mattress, watching the corpse cleaning up her mess. What a nuisance he was. Just being there, silently helping. Not getting angry or annoyed or upset or cross… just watching over her as she dissolved into the scruffy cotton. Stoic. Impervious. Maybe all of this was wrong. She felt wrong. The room felt wrong. She scratched her cheek which was already bloody and scabby until she could feel her fingers getting wet. "Stop that." He nudged her scratching hand away with his boot-wearing foot. Kneeling next to her he grabbed her face and inspected the damage. Not to deep. It will heal, Charon decided.

"You awake." the tall man concluded. "Water." She demanded with a hoarse voice that was worthy to belong to a ghoul. Charon walked over to one of the shelfs and took a bottle a water, returning to her. "Drink it slowly." He ordered her while handing over the precious bottle. She unscrewed the cap and took small gulps, flinching when it hit her sore empty stomach. "We need to talk." Charon pulled up the only chair and placed his huge frame upon it. "You need to tell me again what you want. You have to convince me." Her eyebrows furrowed. "I'm not sure. I didn't think about what I want." Charon sighed. "Why were you in this tunnel?" he tried again to make it simple for her. "I left my group. I didn't want to stay with them anymore." He nodded.

"That's a start. What were your reasons for leaving them?" The raider girl looked away. "They killed someone who was close to me." Charon chuckled as he heard this. "That's what raiders do." "Not like this! She was like a sister. And then this guy showed up. And he said she was a weak leader and the whole group just turned on her and they cut her up in little pieces like a mole rat." She stopped mid-sentence, to upset and furious to continue. Charon smirked. "Good. Very good. Hold on to that feeling of hate. You will need it. The power of it. Cause whatever you do from now on, it'll be hard. Every day will be pain. Do you understand that?" she nodded. "How do normal people survive out here?" she asked already calming down. "Out here, far away from settlements, they scavenge, they hunt. Most people live in settlements, though. It's easier that way."

"So, you're also a scavenger?" she asked him. Charon hesitated before answering. "Something like that." She thought for a moment, "Will normal people in settlements ever accept me? A raider?" He stood up, moving the chair back to the desk. "They don't need to know your past. Most of the time it's better that way. How are you feeling?" she screwed the lid on the bottle again before answering. "Maybe a bit better. I don't feel like puking anymore." He nodded. "Get dressed, we will go out and find some things you will need." He looked her up and down. "Like shoes and clothes that will actually cover you body." Somehow she felt hurt by the words and the gaze he gave her. When she was with her group, everyone dressed like this. But to actually see how much normal people disdain what she represents, made her feel vulnerable. The ghoul was gathering his things as she made her firsts tries to stand up.

She wasn't on her feet for a long time and after some time she could stand without her vision blackening. Wait, how did she even get from the bathroom to the mattress and back? She looked to the ghoul who was still putting stuff into his backpack. He was only wearing a t-shirt and the raider girl could see his naked half rotten arms and hands. She could literally see the tendons contracting. Hold on, was that a piece of bone sticking out from his finger? Had he carried her to the mattress when she fell unconscious? She stumbled into the bathroom and gripped the rim of the toilet tightly as waves of nausea washed over her. Think of something else, think of something else, she shouted in her head to herself. Charon appeared in the door.

"Get yourself together we have stuff to do." She nodded while she had her eyes closed, not wanting to see him again. After a while she felt better and came back into the main room. The ghoul was waiting for her at the door. "Am I getting a weapon." He looked her over with an almost amused look on his noseless face. "No." he answered as he turned and opened the door. He must have undone the traps while she was in the bathroom, she thought. As they both were outside and the door was secured again he gave instructions in a low voice, always checking the area for potential threads. "you will stay behind me to my right and always close. Not more than an arm's length. You will always do what I say. No matter the threat or the enemy. If you break these rules you will most likely be dead. Either by the enemy or me. Is that clear?" she nodded. He turned his head and looked at her, one not existing eyebrow arched. "I can't hear you." "Yes. I got it." Satisfied with this answer he walked in front of her through the tunnel.

"They call me Charon." He said without stopping. "I'm Crimson." A few moments passed before he said to her "Well, Crimson. We will need to change that name."


	3. Chapter 3

They had walked for hours before Charon finally signaled for a halt. They both crouched behind some rocks, having an old factory in view. Her naked feet were bloody and the bright sun gave her a headache worse than ever hangover she ever had. But she didn't dare to complain.

"We will be rounding the place first, looking for eventual threats and alternative entrances. Memorize every window and doorway you can see. If you stumble upon some overly powerful creatures inside you will be glad to have more than one escape route." "Can I get a gun?" Charon looked at her with an annoyed expression. "Do you shoot like a Raider or do you know how to properly use a gun?" Crimson grimaced as she realized that he will not give her a gun. He took out a huge knife instead, flipped it with ease in his hand so that the handle pointed towards her. "Even if you see some threats, you will stay by my right side at all times." She took the knife "I will."

After they have rounded the place, they choose to enter at the main entrance at the front of the building. The door squeaked as they pulled it open and they sneaked inside. Taking cover behind the front desk. Charon signalled them to explore the production hall first. Crimson didn't understand that, all the valuable stuff would be in the offices. But she tiptoed after the tall ghoul, remembering to always stay close to him. The hall was empty at first sight.

There were a few appliances to produce something, but the raider girl couldn't figure out what it was. They sneaked between the conveyor belts as Charon raised his fist. He turned and looked at his companion before he pointed with his finger on the floor before them. Countless broken bottles laid on the floor, making it almost impossible for her to walk through with her naked feet.

He pointed to the steel staircase which seemed to lead to a walkway and the upper floors. A few steps were heavily corroded so they had to skip them. With his long legs and superior strength, Charon effortlessly climbed the almost broken-down stairs. Crimson did her best, but struggled as she had to skip three stairs at the same time. Charon holstered his shotgun and offered her his hand to pull her up, but Crimson shuddered at the thought of touching his half rotten flesh. She clung to the handrail and somehow managed to get to the platform where the ghoul waited.

He rolled his eyes but didn't commented on her behaviour. Through an open doorway they intruded the office space. But the floor had collapsed a long time ago, taking the walls and the furniture with it to the first floor. In the room below, Crimson could see several rows of lockers. In her experience, clothes and shoes usual were to found in them. She waved at Charon and then pointed to the floor below. He motioned her to come closer to him before he spoke with his husky voice.

"We can go back the way we came. I remember seeing a doorway leading to this part of the building near the entrance.". All the way going back the way they came seemed like a waste of time. "Can't we climb down from here?" Charon examined the structure of the toppled floor. "Not sure. Might be to risky." Charon already walked the way they came as Crimson still thought about just jumping down there and getting it over with. But in the end, it was not worth the trouble.

She followed the ghoul wo had almost reached the stairs as she saw movement in the corner of her eye at one of the last remaining office booths. She turned her head and saw a feral ghoul looking at her with a somewhat surprised expressions, if ferals could even looked surprised. Eye to eye with an enemy, her raider-senses immediately kicked in. She raised her knife above her head, screamed from the top of her lungs at the ghoul and launched herself towards it.

Charon spun around, eyes wide open as he saw the tall, but skinny raider girl jump at the now screeching ghoul. She aimed for the neck and sunk the long knife deep into the jelly-like flesh. The ghoul toppled over with her on top of him. One knee at his chest she tried to pull the knife out and stab him again. But it stuck. She must have hit a bone, because it didn't even budge a little. "Shit" she panted as the ghoul started to claw at her face and arms which still refused to let her only weapon go. The still-alive-but-rotten-corpse caught her wrist and pulled it towards his mouth. "Oh no, you don't" Crimson hissed at him.

She let the knife go and used her right fist to punch the ghoul into the face until she could wrestle her hand out of his grip. Charon had his shotgun immediately pointed at the pair, but he didn't dare to shot into the mess of flying body parts. The risk of shooting the wrong one was too high. "Crimson, move away!" But the girl didn't even hear him say anything in her rush of adrenaline. With both knees on the chest of the ghoul now she used the whole weight of her body to pull the knife out of the ghoul eventually.

The grind got loose all at once and the raider girl fell off the ghoul on her back. Even before she could get up again she heard the unbearable loud gunshot. The head of the ghoul was a red gooey mass of blood, bone and stuff she couldn't recognize. She got on her feet "I got him!" she exclaimed frustrated. Charon pointed his shot gun at her. "Shut the fuck up." Crimson fell into silent while Charon stalked soundless back to the staircase.

He leaned out of the doorway, looking down into the hall. As he didn't hear nor see any more ghouls he exhaled deeply. While holstering his shotgun he turned slowly glaring at the raider girl. An ice-cold chill ran down her back and fear creeped into her heart as she saw the look he gave her. In a few long strides he was in front of her. "Listen, I'm sorry, I…" He hit her with the back of his left hand before his right shot up to grip her neck, pushing her a few inches off the floor. "I told you to stay by my side." As her face turned slightly purple, he let her go and the girl fell to the floor, coughing. The tall ghoul took a step backwards as he prepared himself for a spate of excuses, allegations and curses from the raider girl. But he had underestimated his companion.

"I'm sorry. I promise it won't happen again." He didn't expected her to handle his rough treatment so well, to adapt to his behaviour so fast. Charon sighed. "It's okay. At least, now we know there aren't any more enemies inside. You caused so much noise, they would be all over us. Let's go and find you some shoes."


	4. Chapter 4

Her new slightly too big boots stood in the corner next to the door of Charon's hide-out. The clothes that she found, some sturdy jeans and a musty wool jumper with some stitches coming loose, laid on top of them. As a bonus, Charon had found her a backpack which needed just minor repairs to be used again. She sat on the mattress trying to get some of the splinters out of her feet as Charon interfered. "Stop that."

"But it hurts." The tall ghoul stood in front of the desk where he had put an old can with water on the hot plate. "It will get infected if you fumble with it furthermore." When the water was boiling he took the can with a rag from the hot plate and poured it into the bucket which was filled with cold water. He brought it into the tiny bathroom, threw the rag into the bucket. "Go wash yourself. You stink." She felt a sting of humiliation as he said it to her. Of course, she stunk. This was the wasteland. Water was scarce or expensive.

She stood up and limped towards the bathroom. "You're one to say that. Everything smells like rot in here." She muttered defiantly under her breath. "Wait" Charon stopped her as she was just about to close the door. What now, she thought. "The soap." He held out a bar of soap in his hand. Crimson took it, making sure not to touch his skin. As she was finally alone in the bathroom she undressed and scrubbed her body with the soapy rag. When she was a lathered up, she emptied the bucket with the dirty water and filled it up with cold but clean water again. There was a drain in the floor so she tipped the bucket out over her head rinsing herself of the soap. The cold water felt good on the scratches at her arms and neck.

Only know she realized that she had nothing to dry her with. And moreover, she hadn't brought her new clothes with her. Out of necessity she slipped into her old clothes which she now realized, really did smell. She would just quickly grab her new stuff and change again. She opened the door to the main room where Charon waited for her. "Take the bucket with you." She did as she was told and placed the bucket in front of him before he emptied another can of hot water into it and mixing it with cold water. He handed her a packet of washo. "Wash your clothes. All of them." Crimson stood there a second before her brain caught up. All of them? Like, the one she was wearing, too? She didn't have any spare clothes.

"There is an old T-shirt of mine on the desk. You can wear that for time being" hesitantly, she took the black shirt into her hands before checking if Charon was looking. But the tall ghoul stood in front of his supply shelve placing stuff he had scavenged on it. She quickly pulled her old shirt over her head before she changed into his old shirt. She prepared herself for the stench of rot which would surely be emitted from the shirt, but it smelt of nothing, maybe a bit of the washing detergent. After putting it on, she realized that the shirt was not long enough to cover her butt.

"Do you… do you have some pants for me as well?" It took all of her strength to ask for something. It made her feel vulnerable and dependent. Charon turned and for a second, she thought she had seen him smiling. "Sure." Charon crossed the room and rummaged in his backpack before handing her some boxer shorts. "Sorry. They're the only clean one's I've got." She clenched her teeth. "It's okay." He returned to the shelve as she changed into his boxer shorts and started washing her clothes.

As she was half done, Charon placed himself on the chair. He took out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. Crimson watched him closely. "Can I have one, too?" he exhaled a little cloud of smoke before answering. "No." he stated shortly. "Why not?" "Cause they are not yours." She had just finished washing her new jeans and hung them on the thin rope that crossed the room. "You just like bullying me with all this." Charon laughed drily at her comment. "You think I like this?". "Why else?" He stood up and collected a small case made of old worn leather. "Sit on the desk, we need to treat your wounds." He placed the case next to her on the desk before he sat down in the chair again right before her.

"I'm going to touch you know." Immediately she pulled her legs up to her chest and placed her feet on the table. Sometimes she reminded him so much of his old friend, when he had first met him. "We need to treat your wounds. You won't be able to walk otherwise." She lowered her feet on top of his knees hesitantly. Slowly, he places his left hand on her right ankle. "Open the case and give me the razor." Her eyes widened and herknees were at her chest again. "Razor?" she asked almost panicking.

Charon sighed and guided her right foot back to his lap. "I will use it as a tweezer substitute. Now give it to me." She opened the small leather case and found some little tins, sewing material, the razor and some cloth strips inside. She took the razor, opened it and gave it to Charon. He placed the foot on its heel, so that he could work on the bottom. "I'm not bullying you." He said as he pulled out the first splinter. "But if you truly want to leave your life as a raider behind you, you need to adapt. Normal Wastelander's won't accept you if they knew you were a raider. Might be that they will even try to kill you."

He let her right foot go and pointed at the left one. "The other one." Crimson placed the other foot on his knee and he continued his procedure. "So, you will need to change yourself completely. Your appearance, your language, your behaviour. Everything. And this will be very hard. Do you understand that?" she nodded. "And you still want this? You want to live a normal life?" he felt like he had asked her a thousand times. "I do. I really do. It's just... so hard." He rubbed at a deep cut and she hissed at the sudden sense of pain. "It will get easier with time" he told her. "Can you give me the tin with the plus scratched onto the lid?"

She did and as he opened the tin she smelled something greasy but also sweet. He rubbed the mixture on her wounds. "What I'm trying to teach you here is a daily routine, that will keep you alive and healthy. I'm done with your feet." He said and skid closer to her with his chair. He held his hand out and she placed her hand in his. Charon made sure not to make any sudden movements as he rubbed the mixture onto the long scratches on her hands and arms. He was glad that she let him treat her at least.

"So, this is your routine then? Getting up in the morning, scavenging, coming back and repeat? It seems kinda lonely." He laughed. "You don't get much company as a ghoul anyway, and I'm not really a scavenger anymore." He took her other hand and continued. "It's not that lonely though. You travel from town to town, selling your goods to the caravans or the local shops. It's a good life." when he was done, he closed the tin and handed it to Crimson who placed it back into the case.

"What do you do, when you're not a scavenger?" she asked the ghoul still sitting in front of her. "Something similar." he answered evasively."Are you hungry?" she ate two packages of cram before she tiptoed to the mattress. She watched Charon cleaning his weapons and later reparing her new backpack, still sitting at the table and occasionally taking a bite of his cram in between until she fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

I've got unexpected more free time than usual. Can you tell?

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The days went by as Charon forced her to continue his routine. Waking up, scavenging, coming back, repeat. After she got used to all the walking around and staying sharp and always being on the lookout he started to teach her what he knew about the Wasteland. On one evening he told her to sit down at the desk. A pencil and a huge sheet of paper laid in front of her. She could remember when Charon picked it up at one of their tours through the outer rims of the City. She had asked him at that time, what would he do with it, but he had just shrugged and kept on scavenging. Now she knew he had the coming lesson prepared a long time ago. It sometimes frightened her how he planned all this stuff long ahead. As if he already knew what the future holds 10 years from now.

She picked up the pencil as Charon came back to the desk with a machine in his hand. He tapped around on it and when he had finished, placed it in front of her.

It was a Pip-Boy.

"This is a map of the city and maybe 2- or 3-day trips from it." He pointed to one of the countless markers which were scattered on the map. "These are noteworthy locations. They will be important to you for scavenging. I want you to redraw that map as exactly as possible. It will be your main tool in surviving and earning money out here." Crimson was perplexed that Charon owned a pip boy. A working pip boy. It was one of the most valuable things out here. Where did he got it? Could it be…was he maybe…

"Are you a vault-dweller?" Charon looked at her puzzled. "No." "Then where did you get the Pip-Boy? They are so rare." She picked the machine up delicately, fearing it would break at any second. "I found it in a vault." As she examined the Pip-Bo closer she could see scratch marks on the side where the clasp was. "And you repaired it? I've never seen a working Pip-Boy." Charon shook his head. "No, a friend of mine did that."

He took the Pip-boy out of her hands and tried not to notice how she flinched as he brushed her fingers in the process. Still not accustomed to touching a ghoul, he thought. "you see the grid on the map? It would be wise start with that on your map. It makes it easier to map the locations at their position more accurately." He watched her as she started to draw the lines across the paper, holding the pencil correctly and even capable to draw them almost straight. This was not the first time she held a pencil and used it, Charon speculated.

"You're good at that." He stated, hoping that she would explain her unexpected skill. "Seems like it" was the only answer he got from the girl. Alright, keep your secrets, Charon thought. She would be busy for a few hours at least, enough time for him to wash his clothes, clean himself and his weapon. For a wastelander and especially for a ghoul he kept himself and his stuff way too clean. Some would even say that developed a compulsion to stay clean and tidy.

It all started out when he began to scavenge and sell the stuff that he had found to the caravans. The first time he had approached a reseller he was shot at. Charon had yelled at him that he wasn't feral and just wanted to barter, at that the caravan guards stopped firing but never unholstered their weapons. The Caravaneer had apologized for his guard's behaviour, stating, that all ghouls looked the same to them. Since then Charon tried to look as human and non-feral as possible. But even know, when the rare need occurred for him to sell some stuff he usual wear a large hat and used some cloths wrapped around his lower face. Sure, it wouldn't disguise the fact that he was a ghoul but it sure helped a lot not to be mistaken with a feral. If Crimson picked up his routine to look tidy and neat she would have it way easier than him. Could be, that she could even settle at one of the communities if she played her cards right.

"I'm done." She disrupted his thoughts. He came to the desk to look at her map. Here and there the distances between the locations were not as exact as he had hoped, but it would be good enough for her to navigate through the barren wasteland. "Well done." He commended her.

They started combat training the next day. "The best combat is no combat." He always hammered this sentence into her. "a combat is always a risk to get hurt or loose your life. You have to avoid it at all costs. In order to do that, be smart, sneak around, scout around and know your surroundings. But if you have to fight it's better to know how."

He forced her to hand to hand combat first as a new morning routine before they went scavenging. The first days as they established this regular procedure she limbed behind him with at least a busted lip or a swollen eye at their tours. As she got more experienced she could avoid his blows and managed to get a few swings back at him, but in the end, she never won. Crimson was allowed to carry an old 10 mm pistol after she had Charon convinced, that he had taught her enough about weapons, weapon discipline and shooting.

She felt good now, that she could actually earn her stay at his side and held her head high as they walked the wasteland together.

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Oh boy, sounds like "and they lived happily ever after", right? Well, not on my watch!


	6. Chapter 6

I've written, deleted, rewritten and deleted again this chapter so many times. Some of you already know, that I write this stuff in the early morning hours at work. And since I last updated, I wrote every workday on this. Maybe you get a feeling on how difficult it was for me to get this chapter at least a little bit right.

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It was late in the evening. Usual she would be asleep by now, but she was wide awake thanks to lack of exertion and excitement. Today, they were just out for food supplies and hunting. And after a few minutes they had spotted a few mole rats. Easy target practice for Crimson. After they had bagged them, they both stood somehow a bit lost in the middle of the road. "What now?" Charon scratched his chin as he seemed to be thinking. "Well, we've got everything we need, don't we? Let's head back. No use in risking our lives and wasting bullets." They were barely an hour out of there hide-out and she felt restless. She sat on the mattress, her back against the cold wall. The Pip-boy in her hand she read all the notes she had found in the little machine. Some didn't made sense to her and the others were somewhat depressing, thinking, that these people, who ask for help are long dead.

There were a few notes that were clearly written as a suicide note. But sometimes, she found funny notes and longer stories. "How do you know to read? I believed Raiders were illiterate." Charon broke the silnece "Illiterate?" she asked him with a puzzled look "It means, that no one taught you; that you can't read." "Well, seems like I was taught by someone." Charon came over to here and took the pip boy out of her hands. "You're not gonna tell me who?" she rolled her eyes. "It's not important." He starred at her annoyed, not able to argument with her. "So be it." He concluded the conversation. "By the way, how much ammo do you have?" She got up and checked her own pack. "About 60 rounds, I guess, why?" Charon nodded. "That should be enough. We'll be going into the DC outskirts tomorrow. It's time for you to face the real deal."

Crimson couldn't sleep much. She was way too excited. Thrashing around on her old mattress Charon threatened to throw her out into the tunnels if she didn't keep quiet. They spend their morning preparing for their supply run, packing everything that was necessary. As they left their hideout, they didn't head south to the tunnel portal like usual. Charon turned north and Crimson followed him as the ventured silently deeper and deeper into the tunnels. The ghoul had explained to her how to behave when they were in the subway tunnels. She was instructed to stay close to him and cover her face.

There was a good chance that the ferals mistook her for a ghoul due to the scent of Charon. They could save ammo and time that way. But luckily, there wasn't a chance to test this method. She hated ferals. The sound they make, how they jumped at you how they clawed and gnawed. Goosebumps formed on her arms as she thought about it. Almost an hour after they began their run Charon pointed towards some old escalators. This must be the station where they leave the tunnels. Once outside of the station they found themselves in a square like complex surrounded by tall buildings.

They crouched behind a waist-high partly broken-down concrete wall which encompassed the entrance of the subway station. "You decide which building." Charon whispered hoarsely. Crimson looked at the buildings. Some were half collapsed and seemed to fall in at any moment. Another building seemed to be a residential house. That would mean a lot of rooms, small spaces and a lot of junk. But there was always the possibility of hidden pre-war treasures. Furthermore, the only viable other option was an office building, and she was pretty sure, that it wouldn't have something valuable inside.

"The residence." She determined. Charon nodded and they jogged silently along the walls towards the entrance. They had trained this multiple time, so Crimson knew exactly, that her place was on the right side of the door. Charon would give her a signal and she opened the door for him, quietly entering the building behind him. There was just a small entrance hall that lead to the elevators and the staircases. "Let's go upstairs to the top while searching each floor for enemies. That way, we should be able to scavenge on the way back downstairs with ease. But be prepared. This is the city. There won't be only ghouls here!"

At the fifth floor, it happened. They were rounding a corner as they saw the huge green frame of a super mutant. Luckily, he had his back towards them. Charon instantly jumped into cover behind an old table which laid on it's side in the corridor, pulling Crimson with him. His arm still around her, he pressed her close to his body, afraid that the small table wouldn't cover the two of them. Crimson could feel the warmth radiating from him through her clothes. His face came closer, his lips almost touching the rim of her ear as he whispered to her, blowing warm air and tickling her neck in the process.

"It's your mission. You have to decide." Her heart was pounding, probably because this was her first encounter with a super mutant. What should she do? Attack? Sneak away? When they had entered, they agreed on clearing this building so they could loot without any worry. "We're going to take him down." She decided. "Any suggestions how we do that?" Charon smirked. "Aim at the head." He said as he handed her the assault rifle he used as a secondary weapon. "Ready?" Crimson nodded. "Then in three, two,.." At one he stood up, rounded the table with a few long strides and got into range for his shotgun. In the same moment Crimson kneeled behind the table and fired the assault rifle at the super mutant. He turned around and immediately got hit in the head by Charon's shotgun. The big green mutant fell dead to the floor. Charon raised his fist, a sign for Crimson to stop and stay silent. They both waited for further enemies to approach them due to the noise they caused. But nothing came. Charon knitted his non-existent brows. Mutants are never alone.

"Something is wrong" he said quietly as he turned and walked back to his companion. "Keep your guard up. I don't like the look of this place." They kept on following the hallway and stopped before rounding a corner. "I'll go first, you cover me." He instructed her and was almost immediately crouching and walking around the corner. Somebody opened fire as soon as Charon was in the corridor. Crimson fired back but could not see any enemies. Her Ghoul companion skidded towards the next door and squatted in the doorframe while working on the lock. Another burst of gunfire started and Crimson instantly fired back. She still could not see where the shots came from, the enemies must be laying behind some old furniture which littered the hall. Charon finally got the door open and after a quick sweep of the room he motioned her to run towards him. He cowered in the door frame again, ready to provide cover fire as Crimson prepared herself to sprint towards Charon. He took aim at the heap of old furniture where he suggested the attackers as he finally saw a super mutant emerge from behind it. With a Gatling Gun in his huge Hands.

Fuck. He jumped back into the room behind him, not sure if the drywall would safe him from the spray of bullets. "Crimson, stay back!" he yelled at the top of his lungs shortly before the Gatling gun began to roar. As she heard the sound of the heavy machinery she crouched and covered her head. Plaster and pieces of flew through the air as the 5 mm bullets pierced the walls. Crimson managed to look up and saw Charon crouching in his room behind a wardrobe. He motioned her to go back the way they came. As he motioned a circle with his right arm, she thought, he wanted her to go around and find a way to get behind the Gatling gun swinging mutant in the corridor. Crimson creeped back the way they came. Maybe, she could get behind that mutant through one of the apartments. She had seen some crumbled walls on the lower levels. If she was lucky there would be a way to get from one apartment to the next one and then she could find a way to get onto the corridor further down. She opened the next luckily unlocked door and looked around for a way to get into the next apartment.

The super mutant came closer to Charon's position step by step. Cautiously, he took a quick peak into the hallway, deciding, that the mutant was still far enough away. Charon took one of his grenades, he pulled the pin and the lever, counting the seconds before throwing it in the direction of the Mutant. This tactic was risky with such an old grenade, but he feared, the mutant would throw it back if it didn't explode quickly enough. A deafening bang could be heard as the grenade went off by the feet of the green mutant. The walls were shaking and dust trickled from the ceiling. As Charon took a peak into the hallway he could see the mutant shaking his head. It had a big fleshwound on his right leg which surely made it slower now. Sniffing his chance, he readied his shotgun and attacked the limping mutant.

Crimson almost toppled over as the grenade exploded. She had no idea who threw the grenade and just hoped, that Charon was not hurt…or worse. No, she thought and shook her head. Charon wouldn't die from a mere grenade. To Crimsons disappointment, the wall between the two apartments seemed fine, no holes to slip through. She hurried over to the window-side of the Building, looking outside and seeing a Fire escape. Great! She climbed out of the window, which pane was long gone and placed her feet on the metal staircase gently. She wasn't sure if it could hold her weight.

The metal underneath her groaned a bit and the staircase swayed a few inches not fully attached to the wall anymore. Chunks of corroded metal came loose and fell downwards. Only a few strides and she clung onto the windowsill of the next apartment. She climbed into the room, glad to leave the staircase behind her. She took her rifle from her back and sneaked to where she thought the hallway should be. The front door was already broken down so she made sure the corridor was empty before slipping through the door. It seemed that she was in another hallway than the one with the super mutant, but due to the noises it emitted she could localize the enemy pretty easy. She crept towards the noise along the wall, always fearing to discover other super mutants.

At the corner she came to a halt, slowly peeking around it and seeing Charon charging the mutant. Crimson readied her assault rifle thoroughly taking aim, always looking out for Charon's position. With a quick movement, the Super mutant rushed forwards and tackled Charon to the ground. Crimsons mouth escaped a stifled shriek of surprise as she saw the Mutant standing above the lying Ghoul. She took aim and shot a volley at the mutant. She missed. At the last moment the super mutant ducked and grabbed Charon at his throat pulling him up. Crimson panicked as she saw her Companion in the ironlike grip of the enemy, gasping for air.

As the mutant charged him, Charon had no room in the small hallway to dodge his attack. He raised his arms and his shotgun in front of his upper body and head to protect himself from the impact. He hit his head as he fell, taking a view seconds to regain clear vision, but too late, the mutant had his hand around his neck, squeezing the life out of him. He had 10 seconds most, until he would pass out, Charon calculated. He raised his shotgun which he still held in his hands. He thanked his training for not loosing his weapon in such situations. He pointed the barrel of his weapon at the head of the mutant.

Crimson panicked and started to shoot at the mutant at a fast pace. As the bullets hit the mutants head, he turned around with Charon still in his grip. And then it happened. A bullet hit the hand of the mutant which was still wrapped around Charon's throat. The Mutant opened his hand, and Charon fell to the floor. Crimson praised every god she know of as the mutant finally came towards her, exposing his vulnerable face. She took aim and shot him through the eye. He took a few tumbling steps before collapsing dead to the floor. Not wasting any more time, she hurried to Charon who still lied on the floor gasping for air. She hoped the mutant hadn't crushed his windpipe. As she knelt next to him, she saw the damage. His throat was a bloody mess.

"Fuck!" she yelled, taking of her bag and frantically looking for her stimpaks. She found one and administered it to his throat. With her hand she wiped the blood off and saw the source for all the blood. There was a bullet hole in his throat a little to the left from his windpipe. As she hit the mutants hand she must have hit him too. "Fuck!" she yelled again, this time only louder. Why doesn't the bleeding stop? The hole sure got smaller due to the stimpak, but it didn't close entirely. She went through her bag again and found another stimpak, her last one. "Please please please" she muttered under her breath as she injected the stimpak close to the wound. But nothing happened, the hole closed maybe marginal a bit more. "Shit!" she screamed now, cold waves of panic running down her neck and back, she feels nausea rising from her stomach.

Keep it together! She thought repeatedly. Ripping her shirt apart, she used the strip of cloth to wind around Charon's neck, his eyelids fluttering and still gasping for air with a soulcrushing, desperate rattle. She had to get him into safety, the only place she could thought of was their hideout, but it was at least 2 hours away. The wound still bled but not at a deathly rate she supposed. "Okay, common Big guy, I need your help." She maneuvered one of his arms around her shoulders lifting his upper body upright before trying to get him to his feet. His eyes flicked open and he let an agonizing grunt escape his throat. "I'm sorry, so sorry. Bear with it." She would have loved to give him some med-x or at least buffout, but Charon got rid of all chems as he took her in.

It felt as if it took days to get back to their hide out. Crimson was just glad, that Charon didn't pass out, she would never be able to carry him completely. It was hard enough to keep him upright with all his weight leaning on her, but at least he could walk by himself. When they were finally at "home" she half dropped - half lowered the huge ghoul onto the mattress. She unwrapped his neck and inspected the still bleeding but almost closed hole she was responsible for. It seemed to look a little bit better than when they started stumbling home. But maybe she just wished it to be better so much that she started to imagine it. "Charon, where are the stimpaks?" she asked him loudly. He shook his head and pointed to the shelve at the wall with the supplies. But Crimson was sure, there were no stimpaks on the shelve. Nevertheless, she started to inspect it. "Charon, there are no stimpaks." She stated after a few minutes of searching. But her ghoul companion fell unconscious and could no longer answer.

Her heart raced, unsure on what to do. She could scavenge for stimpaks, but there was no guarantee that she will find some. She stopped in the middle of rummaging through the supplies. She could buy them. Charon had taken her with him a few times when he sold their scavenged merchandise to a caravan. The trader had occupied a nearby old gas station and used it as a temporary store. Quickly she went back to Charon and checked his pockets for the key of the safe in which he stored the bottle caps. After opening it, Crimson took every bag she had found inside, unsure about how much stimpaks would cost. Before she left the hide out again, she wrapped his throat again, hopping that he would not bleed to death while she was gone. Please, let him survive, she thought before closing the door behind her.

"Just one? I need more than one stimpak!" she yelled at the trader enraged. She was lucky and found the caravan at the old gas station. "I only have one to sell, lady. You want that one or not?" he said annoyed as he feed his brahmins. It won't be enough to heal Charon, she was sure about it. She needed to get more stimpaks and fast! "Alright, give me the stimpak and all the med-x, jet and other chems you have." She decided. An idea had formed in her head. She didn't liked the idea and it was risky but at this point the only chance she could think off. She concluded the deal and headed north-east, towards the turf of her old raider gang, with the pockets full of chems, bottlecaps and a single stimpak.

* * *

This will be the the last chapter in the Year '18. I hope you all have a wondefull christams time and I wish you all a Happy New Year, or as we germans say "Guten Rutsch!" (roughly translated: "good slide" into the new year). See you all in 2019 =)

P.S: the Glühwein helped! :)


	7. Chapter 7

Warning. Some things might offend some people. I Know, this warning is quite vague but I don't want to spoiler you right at the beginning of this chapter. Just be warned.

* * *

On the roof of an old factory, a single raider was on lookout. He was leaning against the railing which surrounded the roof while smoking a cigarette. The embers almost reached his lips before he flicked the butt off the roof and watched the faint orange-red gleam fall to the ground.

To his surprise, there was a person standing where his ashes hit the ground. He had not seen anyone approach the compound, how did the stranger... After a few seconds of bafflement, he got his rifle ready. "Hey!" he yelled towards the ground. "What ya think you're doing there?" The silhouette looked up before lifting one arm and waving at him. "Hi Squash. Glad you didn't shoot me on sight." Crimson answered him with a small smile. "Crimson? Is that you?" She laughed dryly. "No, it's the Brotherhood. Can't you see? Now open up, moron, it's so cold my nipples have a party." Squash grinned broadly. "Calm your tits, princess. Already on my way."

As he vanished from his high position she sighed loudly. That went better than expected. But after all, Squash was an idiot. He probably didn't think about the reason, why she was absent the last months. Hopefully, the others were all strung up and didn't question it, too. The creaking of the heavy metal door as it was opened interrupted her thoughts. Squash was standing in the doorway beckoning her inside. "We thought you were dead." He said while closing and bolting the door.

"After that one raid, we only noticed when we were back that you were missing." Squash walked in front of her, leading her to the main room where the group would spend most of their time with drinking, fighting, sex and drugs. Maybe she will be lucky and the leader will be out of it. "I was wounded. Couldn't get back. I crawled into a subway tunnel and kinda waited for my death." She tried to sound uncaring while telling her lie. "But somehow I didn't die. Took a long time to recover, though."

They went through another heavy steel door and were inside of the main room. some raiders were lying around on old mattresses, a couple could be seen fucking in one of the corners, half hidden behind some rubble and the leader of the group was sitting in his armchair almost in the middle of the room. A jet inhaler in his left and a bottle of some unidentifiable schnaps in his right hand. "Look what I found scratching at our door." Squash already announced loudly and Crimson cringed inwardly. She hadn't wanted to make a fuss and everyone to notice that she came back.

"Hi Alex." Crimson greeted him nonchalantly He looked up from his inhaler as his gaze darkened. "You may call me by my full name." he growled at her. Crimson rolled her eyes "Yes, Alex the Great." The leaders face lit up and he grinned brightly. "Crimson! We thought you have died." She hated this smile of his. He had the same look on his face when he had killed her sister and cut her up in a thousand pieces before feeding her to the group. 'don't think about it!' she scolded herself. 'just think about the stimpaks you're going to take.'

"So!" Alex clapped his hands "What brings you here? Wanna cuddle up with your old gang?" Crimson mimed the clueless. "Old gang? The way you say it, it sounds like you have kicked me out." He laughed. "Well, you left, didn't you? And now look at you. Clean, good equipment, healthy skin colour. And what is that on your head? Did you let your hair grow? You know I hate your hair colour!" she shrugged. "I wasn't able to find any kind of knife or blade to shave. But I found something else in the tunnels."

She removed her backpack and picked a package, neatly wrapped in old cloth out of it. She stepped forward, both hands around her package and handed it over to Alex. "What is in that?" he asked, a glimmer in his eyes. "You will have to open it to see." Crimson replied with a smirk. He unfolded the wrapping and his eyes gleamed with pleasure as he saw the small containers and syringes full of drugs.

"Oh Crimson, you shouldn't have." Alex already wrapped his belt around his arm, ready to get the med-x as quickly into his system as possible. "Hey, hey. Don't we get any of it?" Squash had already approached Alex and had his arm outstretched to pick the drug of his choice. "Get your hands off!" Alex slapped the other raider's fingers. "Crimson gets to pick first."

Fuck.

The blood in her veins ran cold. Ice cold. She could almost feel the tiny icicles pricking under her skin. It hurt, it tickled, she scratched her skin but her hands were numb. Maybe because they were cold. She tried too look at them, almost expecting to find ice around her fingertips but her hands looked normal. Why did she see everything in a haze, blurry? Why were there no edges on…anything? Oh, right. The Drugs. She could feel Alex hands grabbing her shoulders and directing her to one of the mattresses. Ah shit, not that again.

When he was done with her and finally asleep, she fought to stay awake. The effects of the drugs pulled at her and her body screamed to just slip into unconsciousness. Crimson pushed herself up and crawled on hands and knees to the next chair she could see. Climbing the chair and pulling herself up into a sitting position was the most difficult thing she had done in months. She could already feel the left side of her face swelling, and the constant soreness in her throat. Water. Her mouth felt like her old woolly pullover and she could still taste never-washed-dick on her tongue.

No, her head screamed, not water. Stimpaks. You need the stimpaks and then get the hell out of here while you're still high. She might never be able lo leave again when she waited until her desire arises for another hit. After some struggling, she got on her feet and managed to gather her clothes and her gear. Crimson knew, that the stimpaks would be upstairs in the bedroom of Alex. He kept the drugs and the stimpaks and everything else valuable in a safe there. She nicked the key from the still sleeping gang leader and just hopped that Charon was still alive.

He was.

And oh boy, was he pissed. He had really low expectations when it came to the intelligence of raiders to begin with, but how dense can one be? He was a motherfucking ghoul, radiation heals him! Not stupid stimpaks, radiation! And just to begin with: she shot him! In the throat! He had taught her every single thing he knew about weapons, shooting and of course, weapon safety. And she still managed to shoot him. And after that, she panicked and used all of the stimpaks. Great. Just oh-so-great. Just toss me in a nearby radiated puddle for gods sake!

Everyone knew that ghouls get healed by radiation and that stimpaks don't really work. Well, they work a bit but they aren't efficient. Okay, nonetheless that the stupid girl shot him, used stimpaks on him, panicked and dragged him all the way home – he had seen at least 4 cars with a leaking nuclear reactor which he would have happily cuddled with – she didn't even get it when he pointed at the damn irradiated water which sat at the top of the shelf. Plenty of it. Luckily, he was in a condition to at least stand up and get the damn water when he woke up. Alone. Cause she left him for who knows what.

He snorted angrily as he was on his way to catch up with the stupid girl and give her the spanking of her life. Or maybe beating, Charon thought and clenched his fist. When he arrived at the traders garage it was deserted except for one guard. He sat in front of the garage, his arm in a sling. "Hey." Charon greeted him. "Ah, the ghoul. The caravan has already left. I can't sell or buy." Charon waved his hand in refusal. "It's alright. I'm not here for trading. I was wondering if you have seen the girl that was tagging along with me not so long ago." "The one with the short hair? Yeah, she was here just a few hours ago. She bought all our chems if I remember correctly." Charon's' eyes widened. "Did she? Do you know where she headed off to?" The guard shrugged. "Not exactly. She headed north-east I can tell you that at least." He left without another word.

Crimson had found the stimpaks and sneaked out of the Raiders base. She was glad that her plan to gift Alex the drugs had worked. Everyone was so high that they were all lying around in a drug induced oblivion. The wind hit her flushed face as she opened the heavy metal door. She closed it behind her and hurryingly headed towards their hide-out.

Charon had almost reached the factory, the home of the raiders as he saw the door opening from quite a distance. He knew that raiders resided inside the old building and he had always suspected it to be Crimsons former home a gang. Now he had confirmation. Did crimson leave him in agony to rejoin her gang? At first, he couldn't wrap his head around the idea, but seeing her leaving the building made him question it.

It would make sense, he thought. That's why she bought the chems. Everything seemed to fell into place, it made sense. His anger and rage faded away until he felt empty of every emotion. He shortly closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He knew this emptiness too well. It was the same feeling when he still had an employer and a binding contract. Charon shrugged his shotgun into place and followed the girl.

Crimson forced every step out of her hurt and tired body, determined to reach her destination. "Crimson." She heard a rough, all to familiar voice calling her. Confused she looked around and finally spotted Charon walking towards her. She hesitated. Could it be real? Or was it the drugs playing tricks on her? "Charon. Why are you here?" she asked in a trembling voice. The huge ghoul didn't answer but still came closer until he was only a few feet away. Crimson could finally see his face through her blurry vision and she smiled as her legs gave out. "It's really you, you are okay." She laughed relieved. Charon kneeled in front of her, one hand reaching for her arm. Sure, she looked high, but he had to see the needle marks. He needed to be dead certain about this.

As soon as he touched her sleeve, she flinched so hard that she fell backwards on her butt. Charon could feel a pinch in his chest, she hadn't flinched at his touch in weeks, why did she now. Has it been only pretence? All those months of trust building and almost friendship, all for nothing? "Are you high?" He asked her while standing up again. Charon looked down at her with disdain. "I… I am." She answered with hesitation. "But it was necessary! I needed to-"

Charon interrupted her "Don't tell me. I don't want to hear how much you needed that hit." Crimson looked at him surprised. "What…No. I only did it to get stimpaks." "I find you high in the middle of the wasteland after I have seen you leaving the raiders base, After you have shot me and stole all my caps, leaving me to bleed to death." Crimson could feel her tears rolling down her cheeks. "No" she said meagrely. "No, that's not true. I …I did all that to safe you." Charon shook his head. "No. you even bought all the chems from the trader. What more evidence do I need? Everything you did, everything you say. It was all lies. But you were a good actress, I will give you that. I almost trusted you." He sighed and paused for a moment.

"Keep the caps. Buy more chems, buy so much that you will kill yourself with an overdose for all I care. Just stay away from me." He turned around and walked back the way he came. "No! Charon, please!" Crimson cried out. "Please believe me." But he just kept on walking, never looked back once. Crimson buried her face in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably. She still had Alex's' rotten, acrid taste on her tongue.


End file.
